


Five Things That Never Happened to Inspector Nightingale

by Philomytha



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philomytha/pseuds/Philomytha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More explanations for that picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things That Never Happened to Inspector Nightingale

**Author's Note:**

> It turned out to be quite an inspiring picture. Here it is again: 
> 
> [](http://s1080.photobucket.com/user/philomytha/media/mcgann3.jpg.html)  
> 

_Back off._ There was an image attached to the text, from a number I didn't recognise. I opened it, and I stared. Then I looked at Nightingale across the restaurant table.

"Um, sir? What's this about?" I gave him the phone, and I swear he blushed. 

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry, Peter. That is most inappropriate. He's quite misunderstood the situation."

The penny dropped. "You mean--seriously? You have a--and he's jealous? Of _me_?"

"It won't happen again."

"Yeah. Sir, please tell your boyfriend I'm straight. Also, if that picture gets out, people will be queuing up to be arrested."

* * *

In the waiting room, I flipped through a magazine, then stopped and went back. There. What the hell? 

Nightingale. Definitely Nightingale. Half a dozen photos, in various poses and outfits. I pinched myself, but didn't wake up, and the pictures were still there. I tore the page out and couldn't concentrate all afternoon.

I put the torn page down on the table at dinner. Nightingale looked at it and raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"

I didn't say anything, and he sighed.

"It was a favour for a friend. The son of a friend. They came out quite well, don't you think?"

* * *

It was the strangest ransom note ever received by the Metropolitan Police. But I spotted the clue in the apparently casual picture, the street Nightingale was indicating, and Seawoll himself led the assault. I think he didn't want anyone else to have his favourite chew toy. 

Nightingale was still under the spell when I got to him, utterly blissed out. He followed us out of the building with a swing in his step and a smile on his face. 

"Hm. Pity we can't keep him this way," Seawoll grunted. Looking at his unfamiliar smile, I agreed, for a different reason.

* * *

The forma twisted away from me again. Nightingale laughed, which stung. He doesn't normally laugh at my mistakes. 

"Yeah, I screwed up. I'll try again."

Nightingale's laughter died slowly away, but he was still smiling and there was something off about it. "It's such a pleasure teaching you." He lounged back against the workbench. "A true pleasure."

"Um, sir? Are you feeling okay?"

"I think your spell may have affected me." He sounded like it was the best thing since sliced bread. "It'll wear off, eventually."

"Eventually," I echoed hollowly, and watched as Nightingale, beaming, stretched out on the floor.

* * *

"Mmm." I stretched out on the floor. "That was _amazing_."

"Yes," Nightingale drawled, even his voice languid, as relaxed as I'd ever seen him. He rolled onto his back, smiling in a way that made me instantly ready to go again. "A bit chilly, though."

"Here." I reached out and grabbed the first item of clothing I could reach, which was my black t-shirt. 

Nightingale took it, blinked, but pulled it over his head, then wriggled his arms into the sleeves. 

"Wow," I said. "Not that it wasn't better with nothing. But--you should dress like that more often."


End file.
